


First Night

by Emerald_Sparrow



Series: A Torrid Affair [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Love/Hate, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald_Sparrow/pseuds/Emerald_Sparrow
Summary: Dragonborn Reyna Stormblade returns to the new High King of Skyrim wearing an Amulet of Mara. Her intent is to taunt him with what he could have had, but her plan backfires when Ulfric outwits her. Part 2 in A Torrid Affair series.





	1. Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls or Bethesda or anything related.**
> 
> _Note: Y'all, I just get little ideas in my head sometimes. This isn't an elaborate, incredible story. It's just a torrid affair between my Dragonborn and Ulfric Stormcloak lol. This is a two-shot that falls after the 1st in this series, The Moot; I'll post one more chapter, and then one last story which will have two chapters like this._

"Stormblade," the new High King greeted, his voice gruff. "I can't trust you to go anywhere." He sounded more amused than anything, which was what she had been hoping for. She stayed silent though, as he rose from his throne and paced around her with his arms locked behind his back. She could feel his eyes traveling up and down her body, which was covered in the skintight red and black assassin's garments of the Dark Brotherhood. "Anyone who underestimates you, Dragonborn, is making a grave mistake," he commented in amusement.

She smirked, and replied impudently, "You have underestimated me." And he would be very sorry he had, when it was all said and done. As he made a full circle around her though, she began to realize that in that moment, she cared not for revenge or atonement from him; she simply wanted him to want her, to say it out loud and act on it. Damn, she thought ruefully. What power does he have over me?

Ulfric came to a halt in front of her, and there was a wry smile on his ruggedly handsome face. "From the moment I saw you battle your way out of Helgen, I realized there was something different about you; but you have surpassed obstacles that even I have not." It was a monumental statement for him to make. Reyna tried to suppressed the urge to smile. He knew just how to get to her, giving just enough to draw her in, then taking and taking until she was utterly enraged with him. She had come here to gloat, to show him what he was missing, and to express her still-present anger at him for his behavior at the Moot. In his presence though, soaking in his acclaim, she reluctantly realized that her body was alive and singing, waiting for him. It was a perverse back and forth that they shared, and she savored it as much as she hated it.

His eyes traveled to her neck, and he reached out to finger the pendant hanging down between her breasts, his gaze all at once hard and distant. "An amulet of Mara," he observed carefully. "How many offers of marriage have you received thus far?"

"More than I care to admit," she said, a capricious thrill of satisfaction filling her. She had managed to get under his skin. Good. "Still, there are others I'd prefer." Her voice spoke volumes, and they both knew to whom she was referring. She was understood that he was set in his denial of her, and while it might seem like an open-hearted comment from her, it was more of a taunt; even if he suddenly changed his mind and dropped to one knee before her right then, she would deny him outright just to infuriate and embarrass him.

Ulfric remained silent, his face like steel. She expected nothing less from him, knowing he would never let his real feelings be known.

"I think I've decided on a candidate," she revealed nonchalantly, turning to the long table before his throne and pouring herself a goblet of mead. "His name is Vorstag. He is a Nord I met in Markarth." Reyna paused to see what effect the name of the hold he loathed would have on him, but he was as stoic as ever. "He traveled with me for a time, before I became a member of the Dark Brotherhood."

Ulfric raised a brow, and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sat once more upon his throne. "No milk-drinker, then, if he is battling dragons alongside the Dragonborn." He glanced up at her, and his eyes seemed to be searching her gaze, as if to gauge her reaction. "And a Nord," he added. "Thank Talos. You could do much worse."

She didn't respond, but rather sat quietly sipping her mead. _I could do much better,_ she thought to herself. It was a very risky game they played; their crafty banter would surely one day explode with the tension between them. For now though, she enjoyed from her peripheral view his uncomfortable movements when he realized she wouldn't be provoked.

"When is the joyous occasion?" Ulfric asked of her, his voice almost sour-sounding now. His tone filled her with triumph. She was winning their wordplay games for once.

"In a fortnight," she answered him blithely. "And I freely admit that I expect my honored liege to be there," she informed him with a wolfish grin, nearly preening with the victory she felt having delivered such an unexpected blow to him.

Ulfric gripped the arms of his throne, looking every bit galled. "And so I shall," he declared, his voice like iron, not betraying his true feelings. "I will travel with your housecarl and your children, to assure their safe arrival in Riften."

She smiled, and set down her goblet. "Thank you," she told him sincerely, hoping for just one moment that he would let his guard down, so that she could as well; hoping for just one moment that he might do or say something to change her mind. She extricated herself from her seat and stood staring at him speculatively. Their gazes settled on each other for endless moments, and an uncomfortable silence fell on them. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke them.

She turned to leave, feeling like a fool.

"Reyna," Ulfric spoke gravely.

She stopped, and looked over her shoulder at him.

"You will always be mine," he stated, his voice hard, his eyes even harder as they bore into hers.

She didn't say a word. She merely smirked seductively at him and strolled out of the Great Hall.

* * *

"King Ulfric is going to take you to Riften, my darlings," Reyna told Sofie and Hroar, as they sat next to her at the table in Hjerim. "You will ride in the wagon with Calder, am I understood?" Her adopted children had been begging to ride their own newly-gifted mares, but Reyna had vehemently refused to let them do so. It simply wasn't safe for them. It was hardly safe for her at times. Even with Ulfric and his guards protecting them, she didn't trust the harsh trails of Skyrim to treat them kindly.

"Yes, Mama," the children said in tandem dejectedly. Sofie lazily dipped another piece of bread into her tomato soup, and Hroar sullenly tapped his feet on the floor. Reyna was shocked they hadn't put up more of a fight, and briefly wondered if it would be Calder or Ulfric to indulge them while she wasn't around to enforce her words.

Calder sat down next to her, leaning in close as he reached for the bread on the other side of her. "This is quite an exciting time, my Thane. I will be happy to show your new husband around Windhelm, when he joins us here." The red-haired housecarl drank deeply of his ale, and Reyna could see that he was using a kind of stiff positivity to mask his troubled mind. But that was one of the things that made Calder so likeable: Despite his own internal problems, he always approached with happiness and peace.

"I will come home with him," she informed him distractedly, running a hand down Sofie's brown waves. "I want us to bond as a family before I continue my quests." She smiled kindly at Calder. "You are part of this family, Calder. You know that, don't you?" She searched his gaze, trying valiantly to impart her very large amount of platonic love for him with her eyes.

He only nodded and looked away from her, staring down into his mug despondently. Reyna felt for him. He had been her first housecarl. He loved her and was unwaveringly devoted to her, but she had not chosen him for marriage. During her absences, Calder had taken care of her children and her home, and it was his right to be Reyna's husband. But she had not chosen him. Part of her felt guilty, but she knew Calder would never hold it against her. He would continue to serve faithfully, and loyally, until his death. She would do everything in her power to show him her appreciation for that.

"Do you think that I can call him Papa?" Hroar asked nonchalantly, staring at his tapping feet. He was such a sensitive boy underneath all of his fierceness. She suddenly felt terrible for not marrying sooner so that he could have the father he deserved. Still, Calder had been so good to the children. She fretted again that she had not chosen him; he had been practically raising her children. Didn't he deserve to hear them call him father? But she couldn't begin to imagine engaging in intimacy with a man she'd seen as a brother for the past year.

"I'm sure he will like that very much," Reyna assured Hroar, attempting feebly to mask the uncertainty in her voice. She was suddenly very unsure herself, which was not a feeling she usually dealt with; one could not be the Dragonborn and second guess themselves constantly. But now, as she considered Hroar's question, her brain began to spin. She had traveled with Vorstag extensively, and yet they had never discussed parenting. They had barely discussed marriage. Knowing he was attracted to her, and feeling fairly fond of him, they had decided to marry. Beyond that, not much had been discussed. That left her slightly unsettled as she dwelled on it. Was her need to bestow upon Ulfric the full wrath of her retribution so important that she had acted foolishly?

_Too late to back out now,_ she told herself. Everything would be fine.


	2. Primae Noctis

"My king!" Calder exclaimed in surprise, and Reyna's head snapped up from her meal. She craned her neck around her new husband to see Ulfric looming in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back and a smug smile across his face. Two Windhlem guards flanked him. "We were not expecting you!" Calder stepped aside and graciously welcomed the High King into Hjerim.

Ulfric entered and surveyed the open space with a pleasant expression. "Quite the lovely home," he announced, his eyes meeting Reyna's at last. "No signs of its previous… inhabitants," he hinted, sparing Sofie and Hroar's delicate ears from the tales of the Butcher of Windhelm.

Sofie jumped up from the table and ran to Ulfric, hugging her arms tightly around his waist. "Do you want to see my room?" she asked excitedly, her eyes alight with happiness. She had only met Ulfric a few times before, but she adored him, and it was evident.

Hroar was on his sister's heels, positively buzzing with enthusiasm. "It's our room," he told Ulfric. "My side is better."

"Of course I do, young ones," Ulfric appeased them, a gentle smile on his handsome face. He let Sofie take his much bigger hand in hers and lead him to the room she shared with her brother, his eyes drifting only briefly to Reyna.

Reyna's heart constricted at the sight. The children hadn't even reacted to Vorstag that way. They were crazy about Ulfric, and she both loved him and hated him for indulging them. He had given her enough false hope; must he also give it to her children?

Reyna exchanged a glance with Calder, who nodded in understanding and offered tankards of ale to the accompanying guards Ulfric had brought with him. He engaged them and Vorstag in distracting conversation, allowing Reyna to stand and slip away. She took a tankard to Ulfric, who stood just inside the children's room; he was patiently listening to Sofie rattle on about her dolls and books. Meanwhile, Hroar tried to speak over Sofie about the special weapons Reyna had given him.

"I see you're raising wee Stormcloaks," Ulfric observed amusedly, watching as Hroar unsheathed his dagger and started mutilating the practice dummy in the middle of the room, while Sofie retrieved a wooden sword from a chest near her bed to attack the dummy in tandem with her brother.

"They would love to fight for Skyrim, if only I would allow it," Reyna told him, smiling softly. Her children had just as much fire as she did.

Reyna handed Ulfric the tankard and sipped of her own, feeling very uncertain. In a low voice, she questioned, "What are you doing here, Ulfric?" This had not been in her plans. Headstrong, bent on enraging him, she had not ever expected him to turn the tables on her. She fought of a shiver of unease, wondering what he could possibly be up to.

He merely raised a brow and ignored her question. "Well done, little ones," he praised Sofie and Hroar. "You've been taught well. One day, you will have a Stormcloak uniform of your very own."

They beamed at him, and followed him back to the table, their chests puffed out with pride. Reyna trailed them, trying to tamp down her rising panic.

"Vorstag, brother," Ulfric greeted the Nord, extending his hand. "Lovely ceremony. And I daresay the bride was just as lovely." He looked back at Reyna, his eyes boldly raking over her daintily clothed form. "It is a rare occasion to see the Dragonborn without her armor."

Vorstag laughed deeply, oblivious to Ulfric's frank appraisal of Reyna. "Trust me, I know. Even on the road she would sleep in her ebony mail."

Reyna rolled her eyes, annoyed that they were laughing at her expense. Ulfric was mocking her and her choice of husband in the most subtle of ways, and she was swiftly growing aggravated. But as she heard Ulfric's next words, her stomach flipped over.

"I apologize in advance, my friend, but a situation has arisen, and I need my finest soldier this eve." Ulfric's voice was a tinge apologetic, and yet stern.

Reyna's jaw dropped open, and from the corner of her eye she could see Calder openly gaping as well.

Vorstag looked taken aback, but recovered quickly and nodded. "It's no problem, my King. Whatever you need."

Ulfric turned his head to look at her triumphantly, as if he were taunting, Milk-drinker.

She sputtered for a moment and then gasped out, "But… my liege," she struggled to throw in, attempting to sound appropriately respectful in front of everyone. "It is our wedding night."

Ulfric put a hand to his chest and assumed a pained look that might have fooled everyone else, but incensed her to her core. "Oh, I know, and I am deeply sorry," he said, and it almost sounded genuine. "But I need my Stormblade at my side as we determine our next course of action." The slight emphasis on the words _my stormblade_ had the room utterly silent.

Reyna was rendered completely speechless and stood blinking at him.

"But please, finish your supper," Ulfric continued encouragingly, sounding every bit the benevolent king. He made his way toward the door, clasping arms with Calder and Vorstag on his way out. "I trust those aged wines I sent are being properly enjoyed."

Calder and Vorstag held up their tankards in his honor, but Reyna remained glued to the spot, watching him leave with a bewildered expression on her face. How in the world had he managed to outwit her?

* * *

"Mama," Sofie murmured sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"Shh, my darling, you are so tired. Rest now," Reyna cooed at her, stroking Sofie's soft brown waves back from her forehead and pulling the covers up to just under her chin.

Sofie yawned, and continued insistently, "But Mama, I have something for you… from the High King," she said, her eyes drooping pitifully. She reached into the arm of her tunic and pulled out a tiny slip of parchment. "He told me it was for you only, and to give it to you when you were telling me goodnight," she mumbled, yawning again. She turned on her side and fell asleep almost instantly.

Reyna's heart pounded as she held the piece of parchment in her suddenly shaking hands. She stayed seated on the edge of Sofie's bed as she opened it, worried her knees were too weak for anything else.

_Reyna,_

_By my right as High King, I claim First Night._

_Ulfric_

She gaped down in consternation at the lazy scrawl across the parchment, feeling dumbfounded all over again. First Night was nearly unheard of. Ancient Nord kings had practiced the custom with fervor, but no king of Skyrim within the last few centuries had claimed First Night.

"Reyna?" Calder whispered with concern, standing in the doorway to Sofie's room.

Reyna looked up, startled, her eyes wide. She reached for his hand, and he immediately pulled her up and guided her into the kitchen. She handed the letter to him, her hands shaking.

"First Night?" he read in an outraged tone. His eyes reread the letter, as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd seen. "That barbarian!" he finally exclaimed, his voice a harsh growl as he struggled to be quiet. He crushed the letter in his beefy hand and began stomping around the room. "The nerve of that man! He fancies himself some ancient king who can take brides on a whim? No modern king would dare claim First Night!"

"He is not a modern king," she told him, her voice hushed. "He has always had the intention to restore Skyrim to the old Nord ways."

"I won't allow this," Calder vowed, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white. "I am your protector and I will not allow this!" He was mottled red with rage, the splotches on his face traveling straight to the fiery edge of his hair.

Reyna felt herself calming as she watched her loyal housecarl go over the edge. She grabbed Calder's wrist and met his eyes determinedly.

"I'll go," she told him. She held up a hand before he could protest; they both knew it was futile. She could no more resist the High King's demand than she could slay a dragon with just one shout. "But you must keep things… normal… here. Okay? Can you do that?" Her voice was urgent, her grip on him desperate.

"You know I won't say a word," Calder assured her petulantly. He sank down into a chair near the fireplace, watching the flames leap as if they were mirroring his temper. "But mark my words: This is anything but good."

"They're marked," Reyna muttered, grabbing her cloak from a hook by the door as she slipped out soundlessly.

* * *

"Reyna," Ulfric breathed as she entered his personal quarters. He was standing next to the window, the moonlight kissing his golden skin.

She didn't say anything, but unclasped the cloak at her neck and let it fall to the ground. She wasn't going to waste time pretending she didn't know why she was there. Her cream-colored wedding gown hugged her curves, and Ulfric took his time inspecting every inch of her lithe body. She returned the attention, letting her eyes roam over his uncovered chest and the light smattering of hair that followed down his torso and disappeared under his breeches.

"You've got a lot of damn nerve," she finally told him, her eyes fiery. "You won't marry me, but you'll steal me away and bed me on my own damn wedding night." Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides, her body hot with both displeasure and desire. Talos, but he confused her. She was wholly incapable of controlling her emotions around the blasted man.

Ulfric began to approach her slowly, and suddenly she felt like the prey to his predator.

"I warned you," he said simply, inching toward her. "You are mine."

She glowered at him, the magic within her crackling at her heightened emotional state, a Shout clawing within her throat. Her whole being was hardwired to resist the feeling of being prey. "And I'm warning you," she murmured dangerously, "I belong to no man."

He stepped behind her, a hair's breadth away. "You swore fealty, did you not?"

"Fealty to you does not equate to being your whore," she grit out between clenched teeth.

His hand stroked over her thick blonde hair, before gripping a handful of it painfully and tilting her head back and to the side. "Ah, but that's not how this works," he taunted her. His lips descended, and he pressed kisses to her throat, his free hand inching down her belly ever so slowly. "Tonight," he continued, his beard scratching over her sensitive skin, "I am in the role of your husband, am I not?" His fingers feathered over her lower abdomen. He stared down at her, as his grip in her hair held her head firmly back. "Tonight, you are my wife." He claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss at the precise moment that his hand cupped the heat between her legs, eliciting a strangled moan from her.

"Bastard," she breathed against his lips, when he pulled his mouth from hers. "I hate you." Even as she spoke the words, her hips arched into his hand, seeking a more firm touch from him.

He chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. His hands traveled to the shoulders of her dress. "Keep telling yourself that," he mocked her. With utter brute strength, his large hands clutched two fistfuls of her dress and ripped it in half. It fell over her hips to the cold stone floor, pooling around her feet in a forgotten heap. She shivered as the chilly air hit her naked body.

Ulfric's hand smoothed over her shapely arse, and then he smacked it and pressed her forward. "Come," he commanded, navigating her by a handful of her buttocks to the massive bed in the center of the room. He stopped and turned to face her, and in an extremely uncustomary act, he took both of her hands in his. She watched with wide, perplexed eyes as he lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed each of her palms, then guided them to his unbuttoned breeches, searching her face carefully.

Reyna bit back a curse, attempting to summon just a shred of composure as her emotions ripped through her. She wanted him; she had wanted him from the moment she'd met him. She hated him and the way he manipulated her. She was disgusted by his imperious attitude and the fact that he constantly bent everything and everyone to his will. She was born of dragons, and yet even she could not resist her inexplicable need to make love to him. He set her on fire like no one before him ever had.

Her brow knitted with the distress of her internal conflict, she tucked her fingers into his trousers and began to roll them down his hips slowly. As his prominent arousal sprang free, she settled onto her knees before him, staring up at him with intensity. She wanted to drive him wild with her mouth, but she also wanted to open her lips and release a Shout that would put him in his place. The former won out, as his thumbs eased over her furrowed brow, and into her blonde strands, guiding her mouth forward.

She swirled the tip of her tongue around the head of his swollen cock, enjoying the resulting shiver that went through his body. Her hands slid up through the smattering of hair on his thighs, and she wrapped one hand around the base of his length, squeezing tightly before taking the rest of him deep into her mouth. She drew her mouth up and down the velvety skin, taking her time with the task, lazily employing her tongue to stroke the bulging veins as she passed them.

"By the nine," he murmured in awe. His hands tightened in her hair, urging her to a quicker pace. She ignored him, continuing with the lazy pulls of her lips, and the infrequent squeezes around the hilt of him. She heard him growl, and then he was forcing her mouth away, and pulling her to stand up straight. He was angry at her, his nostrils flared, his jaw clenched as he gazed upon her with fury and desire. "Careful, Dragonborn," he warned her, his voice dangerously soft. "I play this game better than you."

One of her brows arched at that. Instead of replying with a verbal taunt, which would have been so easy and expected, she slid her hand over and under his heavy sac, cupping it and massaging firmly. A low groan escaped him and his eyes shut with the pleasure that her touch elicited. Reyna smirked, duly satisfied that she'd proved him wrong.

Before she could bask in her achievement, she was suddenly on her back upon his bed, having been thrown there roughly by him. He loomed over, and her heartbeat pounded painfully in her chest. It dawned on her that she had never stopping wanting him; she had tried to convince herself, after the Moot, that he wasn't worth her time. But she realized, as she stared up at him, pulse racing, struggling to breathe, that she had always wanted this to be the result of her plotting. She hated herself for it, but Talos help her, she wanted him.

Ulfric gathered her wrists above her head, pinning her there easily with one hand while his other stroked over her aching center. His lips found one of her nipples, and he rolled his tongue over the taught bud, laving it thoroughly as one of his long, calloused fingers entered her fiery depths. She gasped and arched against him.

"You've been ready for me from the moment you read my letter." It wasn't a question. He was onto her. Perhaps he always had been. He might be a complete and utter arsehole, but he was frighteningly intelligent, and strategy had always been his sharpest skill.

"Please," the word escaped her, and she bit down punishingly on her own lip. She would not beg him; she would never beg him.

He bared his teeth at her in an arrogant smile. A second finger joined the first inside of her, and she cried out in pleasure, her feminine muscles tightening around the digits eagerly.

"Did you really think, even for one fleeting moment, that marrying him would ever rid you of me?" His thumb searched between her slick folds, expertly finding and teasing her clitoris. "Did you think my hold over you would simply be broken?" He added a third finger to her tight heat, and they moaned in tandem at the sensations the action evoked. "I am in your blood," he ground out, his fingers pumping in and out of her. "You will always belong to me."

"No," Reyna cried out in protest of his words, a tear running down her cheek even as her body writhed beneath his ministrations. She fought her climax, wishing with all her might that she could prove him wrong.

"Yes," he growled insistently, and his thumb stroked over her clit in sure, quick strokes.

She screamed as she came apart beneath him, her body shaking as she succumbed to the pleasure he'd brought so skillfully. His mouth met hers in an arduous tangling of tongues, and he kissed her deeply as her orgasm ebbed, drinking in every bit of her ecstasy.

He stepped back, and she was suddenly flipped onto her stomach. She felt him step between her legs, his formidable cock poised at the entrance to her slick heat. Her hips arched back in a plea, her body searching desperately for him to join with her. Tears fell down her face unbidden, and she pounded her fists against the mattress as her mind reared against his total control over her.

His large hands steadied her hips as he pressed in between her damp folds, pushing into her slowly, both of their voices filling the air with delighted moans. Ulfric sheathed himself to the hilt, his head falling forward to rest on her upper back for a moment. Reyna panted softly beneath him, her eyes closing at the feel of his hot breath against her skin, at the feel of his cock filling her so completely.

She moved back against him, and he smiled against her skin, pulling back and thrusting into her at her urging. She met him thrust for thrust, grinding against him as he hit deep inside her, incessantly rubbing against her most sensitive spot. She could feel herself clenching around him tightly again, well on her way to her second climax.

"Ulfric," she whispered, voice raspy, "I'm going to come for you again." Her hand reached back, blindly seeking him. His hand met hers, and their fingers entwined together. "Come with me," she invited him, squeezing his hand tightly.

"Not yet," he growled, pounding into her.

She moaned low in her throat, and clenched her walls around him tightly, coming apart for him once more.

His hips thrust quicker still, and he gripped her hand tightly in his as he roared his release, unable to resist the hot press of her feminine heat clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of her, his face buried in the hair at the nape of her neck. She clutched the bedcovers as aftershocks cascaded up and down her body, trying to control her ragged breathing.

"You're a fool, you know," she whispered to him, her gaze fixed to their joined hands. "You could have had me. But now you will have her," she strangled out, bravely resisting the sob in her throat as she referenced Elisif the Fair, whom she knew he had made a promise to. "And she will never be enough."

Ulfric heaved a great sigh against her neck. "I know."

And then his hand slipped from hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _If you enjoyed this at all or have any thoughts on this series, please leave a review. Even a small one._


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